


Seven Days, Seven Drabbles

by elle_you_oh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Philinda Appreciation Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4234212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_you_oh/pseuds/elle_you_oh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven days of fic for Philinda Appreciation Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> Philinda Appreciation Week: Day One
> 
> Prompt: Little Moments
> 
> The little moments that are unseen, following some of the biggest moments on screen.

_“Let the girl go.”_

 

Melinda feels nothing.

 

It should scare her, because there’s a bullet in her leg, but the pain is not there.

 

The girl wanted her pain.

 

Maybe she took it, even in death.

 

Phil feels fear.

 

His partner, the strongest person he knows, is sobbing, trembling in his arms. He’s already said words he thinks she needs to hear and has nothing more to offer.

 

He should be the one patching her up, but he lets the medical team whisk her off, because he has a more important task at hand.

 

He needs to call her husband.

 

* * *

 

_“But it’s a really nice bus.”_

 

Melinda doesn’t have to look up from her paperwork to know that Phil is practically rocking back on forth on his heels, waiting for her to give him some sort of response. After several moments, he takes her silence as a yes; he didn’t really need an answer, after all, he wasn’t “asking her”, but it’s nice to know that she’s alright with the arrangement.

 

He’s stoic as he leaves her to her work, but mentally cheering, and she shakes her head, a soft smile concealing the weight of the secrets she holds within.

 

* * *

 

_“You feel different… because you are different.”_

 

The silence in the air between them is almost eerily comforting. It feels good to embrace the fact that he’s a changed man, and to know one of his oldest companions understands him, even now.

 

Melinda is stronger than him in more ways than one, but she’s still human and she survived, and so will he.

 

She leaves him to his thoughts after another moment, bidding him a goodnight with a short nod. He just stands there, shirt open and scar exposed, fingers gingerly running over the spot where Melinda’s had been earlier.

 

* * *

 

_“You’re not a friend. But I do believe you’re an ally.”_

 

Phil is still speaking, but the words don’t really process in her mind. He was angry. He didn’t understand. It wasn’t the first time she was unable to convince someone to listen to her. They didn’t understand then. And he didn’t now.

 

She’s hurt. It doesn’t show on her face, but he’s known her for almost thirty years and he can tell when she’s hurt. Thirty years. He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, but he’s still angry with her. He can’t take them back now.

 

* * *

 

__“_ Hard choices are coming. I need you to make this one… for me.”_

 

Silence is a signature of their conversations.

 

She’s a trained spy and no stranger to keeping secrets from Phil, or “lying to him” as he so put it. She nods as a response to his words, and then they’re quiet again. She doesn’t know what scares her more, promising Phil to kill him should things get worse, or not knowing whether her promise will turn out to be another lie.

  
Phil knows she’s lying. But he also knows she’ll have to go through with the lie anyway.


	2. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philinda Appreciation Week: Day Two
> 
> Prompt: Entangled
> 
> Sausalito, or that one time Melinda was stuck in the bay for five hours.

“This is not a situation which should call for your laughter Phil.”

 

He stops immediately, the last chuckle almost silent as he tries his best to keep the smirk off his face. Melinda is glaring at him, only her head visible above the water.

 

It really is funny though. Melinda May, S.H.I.E.L.D Agent, trained spy, defeated by something as simple as a large discarded fishing net. From what he’s been able to figure out, she’s become entangled in the thick twine, unable to escape by herself.

 

What adds to his amusement is that hours earlier she knocked out several assailants in the blink of an eye.

 

Only to be trapped in a fishing net. Like a fish.

 

She lets out an impatient huff and he quickly shucks his suit jacket before kneeling down at the edge of the dock, one hand grasping the weathered wood and extending the other out to her. Her fingers are frozen as they wrap around his, and he feels a little guilty for laughing at her earlier, and continuing to internally laugh at her now, flailing without the usual grace she held. He gives a hard pull, careful not to jerk her arm out of it’s socket, but nothing really happens. So he tries again. And again.

 

After several attempts he’s unconsciously relinquished his hold on the pier, using both his hands to try and yank her out of the bay, but it’s clearly a mistake, because one moment he’s teetering on the edge, and the next he’s submerged in icy cold water.

 

When he finally breaks the surface, spluttering, trying to clear the liquid in his lungs, Melinda is floating beside him, a smirk plastered on her face.

 

“Who’s laughing now Phil?”

 

He huffs at her, drifting backwards a little in the water.

 

“Still me. I could just swim away, go back to the safe house, leave you here you know.”

 

He’s joking of course. He would have eventually dived in to get her out. You know, after having a good laugh or two. He’s a good guy like that. She doesn’t seem to appreciate his humour.

 

“You already did.”

 

Her expression is deadly serious and now he feels pretty bad. She’d been missing for hours but he didn’t think that she’d been in the water that long, or blamed him for it. Okay, maybe not that second part. It was probably his fault. But still.

 

Taking a deep breath, he sinks down into the water, swimming over to where he can just make out the shape of Melinda’s legs caught in the netting. A little help from her dagger, which he had found buried in the chest of one of their marks, and she’s free.

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, when they’re both warm and dry once more, sitting together, each with a hot drink in hand.

 

“That was fun.”

 

“I was in the bay for five hours.”

 

He has a feeling he’s never going to live this one down.

 


	3. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philinda Appreciation Week: Day Three
> 
> Prompt: Summer
> 
> The cold never bothered Melinda anyway. Or the one where the world is an eternal winter until the moment you meet your soulmate

 

The world is a strange and mysterious one.

 

Parents dress their young ones up in parkas and woolen jumpers and scarves while wearing no more than t-shirts and shorts themselves. Children race around all through the year, looking up to the skies and watching the snowflakes fall. Day after day after day.

 

True winter is beautiful. Everything is frozen, the streets lined with white, ice sculptures displayed in parks and families playing in the snow. For three months every year, the world celebrates the cold winter, the season before spring and after autumn.

 

It’s nothing like the nearly eternal winter that every person endures before meeting the one they are destined to be with.

 

* * *

 

Phil despises the cold.

 

He’s in his late twenties now and so many people around him speak of seasons. Spring. Beautiful, fresh spring. Where everything is green and the flowers are blooming. Summer. Glorious summer. Where the sun is high and you can go to the beach and swim and drink cold things without your insides freezing up. Autumn. Ever-changing autumn. Where the leaves are a thousand colours as they rain down around you. Rain. Water falling from the sky that isn’t frozen.

 

He can only imagine.

 

And so he devotes his life to learning more about the history of the seasons. The history of soulmates. And he searches, awaiting the day he’ll finally meet the person, and feel warmth for the first time in his life.

 

* * *

 

Melinda doesn’t mind this whole eternal winter business.

 

There are some who whisper that she has a heart of ice, but she doesn’t care what they think. The world is the way it is for a reason. There’s nothing wrong with the cold.

 

But the emptiness of being without her soulmate lingers. She’s as eager to meet the person she’s destined to spend the rest of her life with as anybody, but not for the same reasons. She hopes that they’ll have more than fate going for them; that they’ll share the same interests and truly care for one another.

 

* * *

 

 Phil is wrapping up a lecture at the local university about his research paper on soulmates. He’d almost cancelled the day before; after coming in to set up for his presentation, he’d started to feel strange, almost warm.

 

But the university liaison had informed him his lecture would be a full house, and Phil couldn’t in good consciousness disappoint so many.

 

He’s clearing up his clutter after his presentation, the students having already evacuated the hall after the Q&A session was completed, when he starts feeling “off” again. Before he has time to even process what is happening, a dark haired woman is standing in front of him, her arms filled with books.

 

“If you’re done in here, I need to set up for my next lesson,” she says, setting her belongings down on the table.

 

He nods quickly, cheeks flaring up in a way he’s unfamiliar with, and thrusts his hand out to her.

 

“Of course. Dr. Phil Coulson.”

 

“Professor Melinda May,” she replies, taking his hand, and that’s when everything heats up.

 

She drops his hand and takes a step back and he feels as though his heart is burning in his chest and the layers he’s wearing are almost suffocating him. He shucks his winter jacket and scarf, leaving him in a suit and tie, and he’s so embarrassed because he’s essentially just begun to strip down in front of a complete stranger, no, his soulmate.

 

When he looks in her direction once more, she’s in a simple blouse and black skirt, a heavy contrast to what she had donned moments earlier. He finds himself unable to move, but luckily, his soulmate, Melinda, is much more brilliant than he.

 

“It’s nice to meet you.”

 

“It’s warm,” he replies stupidly, and his cheeks flush once more at his penchant for pointing out the obvious, but his heart warms even more when she smiles at his comment.

 

* * *

 

They exchanged contact details that day, but he doesn’t get up the courage to ask her out on a date for another two weeks. Soulmates complete you, but you can’t force anything in life. Just because two people are fated to be together, it doesn’t mean they’ll be happy that way.

 

Luckily for him, it seems they’re part of the majority that have found a path to a happy ending.

 

* * *

 

They sit together in the snow during their tenth date together, almost four months following the day they met. The ground is cold and frozen beneath them, the air chilling, but their gloved fingers are laced together, her head resting on his shoulder, and everything is warm.

* * *

 

It’s their first summer ever, their first summer together, and they’re lying on a beach somewhere, Melinda tanning in the sunlight and Phil sticking to the shade beneath the umbrella because he’s discovered he burns more easily than she does.

 

She buys bright green zinc and paints his face with it, and he looks absolutely ridiculous but he can’t bring himself to care.

 

* * *

 

They marry in the spring, four years later, and two years after that, their daughter Skye is born. It’s the middle of summer, but they keep her bundled up, all snug in an almost absurd amount of clothing.

 

Phil teaches their little girl about the seasons, reading to her every evening about how the cold is worth all the warmth at the end.

 

They send her off to school at the end of summer, and when they arrive to pick her up after her first day, they find her in a summer dress that looks like it came from the lost and found.

 

Phils disappointed that he won’t get to play the scary dad to threaten her soulmate upon them meeting, because the kid is five and there’s no way he’s going to frighten a child.

 

Melinda thinks that enduring winter for longer makes you stronger, but they’re both happy their daughter will experience the magical seasons her whole life.

 


	4. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philinda Appreciation Week: Day Four
> 
> Prompt: Family
> 
> Phil thinks the story of how he and Melinda ended up together is pretty great

It’s a warm summer afternoon when a poor waitress at a corner cafe happens to mistakenly eavesdrop on a conversation clearly not meant for her ears.

 

“John?” the man asks his companion, who grimaces in disgust, setting down her tea with a soft clang.

 

“He is, what do you youth say these days, sleazy?”

 

They share a chuckle before the man takes a bite of his sandwich while flicking over to the next file on his tablet.

 

“Clint?”

 

“No, no. Clinton is seeing that Russian ballerina, the one with the very red hair.”

 

The man’s eyes widen in surprise; this was news to him. He nods and swipes over to the next file.

 

“What about Nick?”

 

“Ugh, too old.”

 

“Jasper?”

 

“Too bald.”

 

The man lets out a booming laugh, shaking his head at how picky his companion is being. They’ve already gone through every file except one, and he smiles to himself when he sees the final candidate.

 

“How about Phil?”

 

The woman snorts.

 

“Did you not listen when I said too bald? That man is losing more hair than I am,” she exclaims, and he leans forward, tapping the screen on his tablet to zoom in on the details.

 

“Come on Lian, you’re being too picky,” he accuses, taking another long sip from his mug of coffee.

 

“No one will ever be as good for my daughter as you were,” she responds, shrugging, and he shakes his head once more.

 

“Yeah we were good, so good we got divorced.”

 

Lian fixes him with a stern glare, and he raises his hands in defeat.

 

“Look, I know you’re just as worried about Melinda as I am. She just needs to find herself again, and she and Phil were very close before right? I’m confident that this will work out,” he says, ever the voice of reason.

 

“I will believe you. Do not disappoint me Andrew.”

 

* * *

  
  


“And that’s the story of how your mother and I met again, and decided to be together.”

 

Phil finishes his story with a flourish, waving one hand in front of him, and Melinda snorts at him from the doorway.

 

“You do realise that she doesn’t understand you right?”

 

Phil immediately assumes an expression of fake anguish as Melinda moves beside him, picking up their squirming three month old daughter from her crib.

 

“Skye’s very advanced for her age. Plus, it’s a great story,” he says with a smile, reaching over to tickle her chubby cheek with one finger.

 

This earns him a soft gurgle, and Melinda rolls her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Skye’s head.

 

“I’m not sure being set up by my mother and ex-husband constitutes as a great story Phil,” she says, letting him wrap an arm around her shoulder as she leans into his chest.

 

“It’s a great story-,” he defends, looking down at his daughter in the arms of his wife, the two most important women in the world to him. “Because it has a happy ending.”


	5. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philinda Appreciation Week: Day Five
> 
> Prompt: Touch
> 
> the five senses, or phil's and melinda's first five "encounters"

_Taste_

 

Phil doesn’t consider cooking as a plausible career choice until he’s graduated from high school and uninterested in essentially everything else. And so he follows his dreams and by his mid-thirties he’s a renowned chef with restaurants across the country.

 

M is one of the harshest anonymous food critics in the U.S. Most chefs quiver in fear when they learn that M is due to pay their restaurant a visit, because a bad review from M might end them. Phil isn’t like other chefs.  

 

The review published after M tries his _salmon and avocado ceviche_ skyrockets his popularity.

 

* * *

 

_Sight_

 

Like all other chefs, Phil has always aspired to have some of his recipes published, to share with the world the little tips and tricks he’s learnt over the years.

 

And so he pens a cookbook in the space of a year, before setting a date for release. There’s a book launch party of course, open to the public, catered by one of his more popular restaurants.

 

He’s signing another copy of his book for one of his fans when he meets the eye of a beautiful woman across the room. When he searches for her later, she’s gone.

 

* * *

 

_Hearing_

 

Phil sees the woman again months later; and it’s probably creepy because they’d made eye contact for only a moment. She’s seated at one of the tables at the restaurant he just happens to be checking up on; he wonders if it would be unprofessional of him to go and introduce himself.

 

It’s the stupidest idea ever, but he cooks up one of his signature _basil pesto pasta_ dishes, and brings it over to her table with a smile.

 

“Compliments of the chef.”

 

She raises a brow at him.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Her voice is as melodic as he imagined.

 

* * *

_Smell_

 

Phil is pretty sure it can’t be a coincidence he keeps seeing the woman, not only at his restaurants but also various private functions and events around the country.

 

He’s just published his second cookbook and there’s a tasting party at his restaurant in New York and she’s there. Across the room from him, in a blood red gown.

 

He pushes his way through the crowd as politely as possible, but by the time he reaches the spot she was standing earlier, she’s disappeared once more.

 

All that she leaves him is the scent of lavender in the air.

 

* * *

 

_Touch_

 

Phil’s attending an opening ceremony for his former apprentice’s restaurant, watching the entire thing from the sidelines, chest swelling with pride.

 

He’s just ducked outside to catch some fresh air when he registers a familiar scent and turns to find the woman beside him, leaning against the wall with her eyes half closed.

 

It’s bold, but she looks like she’s about to leave, so his hand darts out to catch her wrist, and the metaphorical electricity between them shocks him.

 

“Melinda,” she says, finally introducing herself.

 

“Phil,” he offers in return, and he blushes when she smiles.

 

“I know.”


	6. Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philinda Appreciation Week: Day Six/Seven
> 
> Prompt: Alternate Universe
> 
> "Agent Coulson was sent to kill me. He made a different call."

SHIELD still knows next to nothing about her, a mysterious foreign killer who keeps getting to their targets and knocking them off before they even have a chance to arrive on scene. They’ve encountered her time and time again, but she’s managed to escape their clutches with ease, disappearing into crowds or vanishing into the night. She’s become a real thorn in their side.

 

And so they send one of their best in to eliminate her.

 

Phil’s been tailing her for weeks now, the infamous assassin nicknamed “The Cavalry”. He’s followed her into high class hotels and dark alleyways, through city after city, but not once getting close enough to catch a glimpse of her.

 

* * *

 

There’s a man in pursuit of her. It’s nothing new; she’s been stalked and hunted for as long as she can remember, but this one’s different. He’s not like the others, aggressive and making their presence known in their rush to catch up to her.

 

He’s patient.

 

If it were not for her skill and training, she might not have even realised he was following her.

 

She’s used being shot at, but no one has ever been fast enough.

 

But constantly being on the run, the blood on her hands; it’s a life she’s growing tired of.

 

And so she finds a spot to hide in, waiting for him to catch up to her. This man has played the game well, and should she die, only this man is worthy of putting a bullet through her head.

 

She wants to see his face before he does.

 

* * *

 

He finally catches sight of her at the lobby of the hotel he’s “staying” at. She’s nothing and everything he imagined.

 

He’s casually sipping a mug of coffee and pretending to read the morning paper, eyes darting around the room to surveil the area. The place is full of businessmen and women, not unexpected for a hotel in the CBD, but one woman in particular draws his attention.

 

She’s dressed to blend in with everyone else, but so incredibly young. He knows just from a single glance that she’s deadly, in every way imaginable. She turns and gives him a smile, before heading over to the elevators.

 

What scares him most as he rises and prepares to chase after her, is that the smile was genuine.

 

* * *

 

She’s waiting for him in his hotel room, sitting calmly in one of the oversized armchairs. He locks the door behind him with one hand, the other hovering over where his gun is concealed, but she doesn’t move an inch.

 

Everything is still until it isn’t.

 

Glass shatters and furniture is knocked over and they’re both bleeding, bruised and battered, but it’s not the fight he anticipated.

 

She’s holding back and he can’t figure out why.

 

He has the upper hand once more and pins her to the ground, pressing the gun to her temple and letting his finger rest on the trigger. She peers up at him, brown eyes meeting blue, and he do

esn’t see a master assassin, wanted in a dozen countries for murder, but a girl with a tortured life, ready to give up and stop running.

 

He can’t kill her.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m Agent Phillip Coulson, from SHIELD,” he says as he bandages up a rather nasty cut on her arm.

 

“You were supposed to kill me,” she responds, looking down at her hands. “Why didn’t you?”

 

He secures the bandage before moving on to another part of her arm which had shards of glass imbedded in the flesh.

 

“I made another call.”

 

* * *

 

 

He gets into a lot of trouble for disobeying orders, but the director a big man with an eyepatch, doesn’t seem too angry. She’s shipped off to be thoroughly assessed, and the process takes months and months. They want to know if she’s mentally stable, and see how she fights, and by the end of it all, she wonders why she agreed to come back here.

 

He’s waiting for her the day she’s sent back to Headquarters, with a badge and a new uniform.

 

“Agent Melinda May of SHIELD. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” he asks, grinning at her and she admires the silver eagle against black leather, trailing her fingertips over her photo.

 

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

Phil talks. A lot. Their conversations consist of mainly him speaking, and her listening, but they work best like that.

 

They’re partners now.

 

She likes working with him; he’s quick and efficient, and they’re good together, even if he chatters about useless things a majority of the time. She learns that he loves Captain America and collectibles and old things. He tells her stories about missions he’s been on and places he’d like to visit. He takes her to libraries and restaurants and record shops, to show her all the things he enjoys.

 

In return, she confesses to him of the crimes she has committed, of all the wrong she has done, the red in her ledger. She tells him about the little girl, Belyakov’s daughter, that she killed, and they grow closer.

 

* * *

 

Relationships between Shield agents are not forbidden, but definitely discouraged. Phil knows from experience that dating your co-workers is just asking for trouble.

 

But Melinda burns like a fire within, and he’s like a moth drawn to the flame.

 

Four years into their partnership and he realises he’s in love with her. He may well have been, the first time he laid eyes on her, but he’s finally willing to admit it to himself. He’s nowhere near prepared to admit it to her.

 

“Love is for children,” she tells him, but it seems to him that she’s starting to believe it less and less each time she says it.

 

* * *

 

 

They fuck for the first time after a botched mission in Europe.

 

She leaves him naked and sweating in the bed, disappearing into the bathroom to clean up, and he wonders if they’ve taken another step towards a relationship.

 

It happens again and again, more and more frequently.

 

She’ll drag him down on the mats after a sparring session or into the shower stalls after a day in the gym. She’s always the one to initiate , and always the one to flee after it’s over. He falls harder for her as time goes on, but she appears to use him for nothing more than a bit of stress relief or to burn off extra energy.

 

It grows more difficult to watch each time as she leaves him, but he accepts that this is as close as she’ll probably ever allow him.

 

* * *

 

 

Melinda leaves to work undercover for Tony Stark for six months, and Phil knows from experience how annoying and egotistical that man can be. But the guy is dying so he cuts him some slack.

 

Fury calls him in to help Melinda supervise Stark on his project to synthesize a new element for the core of his arc reactor.

 

She pulls him away to an empty part of the house and kisses him, fingers working at buttons of his shirt, but he pushes her away.

 

She looks confused, and hurt, but it’s better this way. Their dalliances are interfering with their partnership, and he can’t pine after her forever.

 

He straightens up his clothing and leaves her standing there alone.

 

“I missed you, Phil,” she whispers into the empty room.

 

* * *

 

He’s reassigned to New Mexico and that’s it for a year and a half. She takes missions across the globe and they don’t make contact the entire time.

 

There’s a hammer and a Norse god named Thor, and that’s just the beginning. His psychopath of a younger brother opens up a portal and appears in the middle of their base and he kills several of their agents before approaching Phil with his sceptre at the ready.

 

“You have heart,” he says, and Phil’s never felt more fear in his entire life than in this moment.

 

* * *

 

She’s in the middle of a counter-interrogation when she receives a call from SHIELD.

 

“Coulson’s been compromised,” a voice that she recognises as Maria’s says, and her heart sinks to her stomach.

 

She puts on a brave face but her mind is a jumble as she makes her way back to the helicarrier to join the rest of her team.

 

* * *

 

Steve Rogers or Captain America, is there, and all Melinda can think about when she meets him is how excited Phil would have been to be here, to have the opportunity to meet his childhood hero in person.

 

There’s a whole lot of fighting, and people are killed. Stark and the Captain manage to catch Loki, and accidentally attract Thor to them along the way.

 

And then their helicarrier is under attack and so many agents are shot point blank. Melinda knows Phil is there, brainwashed by Loki, and when they call for someone to deal with him, she answers that call.

 

Their fight is short but damaging enough. She knocks him on the head and then he’s come back to her. She comforts him as best as she knows how and he understands what she’s trying to confess to him when she tells him that “I’ve been compromised.”

 

Before they can say anymore, they’re off again, because there are aliens in New York and they’re not dreamy like Thor. They’re robotic, “the Chitauri”, and they’re destroying the city even as SHIELD and The Avengers race around trying to save it.

 

Things aren’t looking good and the World Council decides to pull the plug and nuke the city, but Stark, despite all his misgivings, saves the day, before insisting they go and try some shawarma.

 

* * *

 

They finally sit down and have a proper conversation about them, and whatever it is that is between them. He tells her that he loves her, heart pounding wildly in his chest as he does.

 

She doesn’t say it back, but she places one hand on his cheek, and kisses him softly, and he knows that she feels the same for him, and that’s more than enough.

 

Their partnership stays the same; they’re still SHIELD’s best, and occasionally work with the Avengers, which Phil is thrilled about because Steve is just as great as he dreamed. He’s a bit of a fanboy, but the great Captain America doesn’t judge him for it and all is well.

 

* * *

 

Things don’t change until they do, and then it’s a mess of doctor’s appointments and paperwork, and less than a year later he’s sitting beside a hospital bed, watching Melinda gently rock their newborn daughter to sleep.

 

“This wasn’t supposed to be able to happen,” she tells him again, and he’s heard her say it a thousand times in the past nine months.

 

It scared him in the beginning, but after they’d talked it out and decided to embrace the situation as a happy accident, the words brought him joy, because they’d created a miracle together.

 

* * *

 

 

She goes back into the field and he stays home to look after the kid. They make do with calls at odd hours and video chats when they can and their little girl learns her mother’s face mostly through a computer screen.

 

He feeds her and bathes her and changes her diapers as Melinda goes off on missions with her new partner, Captain freaking America.

 

SHIELD falls and Hydra takes over and he’s filled with worry as he watches the news and sees what is happening out there in the world. Melinda doesn’t make contact and he fears the worst, until he sees her making her small screen debut on every news channel.

 

“Look, Mommy’s on TV,” he tells their baby, who coos and reaches out to the screen.

 

* * *

 

“I kissed Steve,” is the first thing she tells him when she gets back, and they share a laugh when he jokes that he’s not sure whether he’s jealous of Cap or of her.

 

* * *

  
  
Their lives are dangerous but someone has to defend the world, and now they have more to fight for than ever.


End file.
